


Company

by Lady_Blackwater (orphan_account)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers Family, Awesome Darcy Lewis, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes & Darcy Lewis Friendship, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes and the 21st Century, Dancing Lessons, Domestic Bliss, Eventual Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Love Confessions, M/M, Makeup, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Kissing, Polyamory, Pop Culture, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Steve Rogers, Romantic Friendship, SHIELD Agent Darcy Lewis, SHIP DARCY WITH ALL THE THINGS, Secret Crush, Steve Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-07-29 10:24:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7680751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Lady_Blackwater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky Barnes needs a hobby. Darcy Lewis needs a friend. Steve Rogers needs to chill. Somehow, they all need each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had every intention of making this a 10k word oneshot of Darcy and Bucky being cute, but fuck that. Let's just make it an unnecessary multi-chapter fic with angst, fluff, and everything in between. Please, follow me on [Tumblr](http://ladyevanstan.tumblr.com)...or don't. I don't care at this point.

Bucky needs a hobby.

Knitting didn't cut it, and he'd already caught up on the extensive list of movies, TV shows, and albums Clint had given him all but a month ago. He appreciated the help, but it only went so far.

Baking helped slightly, but it didn't fill the very deep, empty, bored hole in his heart that seemed to only get deeper and more boring every second he was stuck in the damn tower, currently on probation from completing missions with the other Avengers until his bullshit therapist gave SHIELD the green light to let him back in the field.   She spewed some shit about "mental stability" and "askew judgement" when in reality, she was much too scared to tell Bucky outright that the Winter Soldier is still very much within his train of thought even after the treatments in Wakanda.

He knew it was bullshit. Steve knew it was bullshit. T'Challa knew it was bullshit, and if the scientists, therapists, and mental health specialists under the rule of the fucking king of Wakanda's seal of approval didn't get SHIELD to budge and let him in on the fight, there was no hope in ever trying to go out with Steve when he'd awake in the middle of the night, sleepily mumbling about a mission and leaving for four  weeks.

This must be how that punk felt all those years ago trying to enlist; Bucky definitely wouldn't change his mind now that he's in the opposing position, but he can definitely attest that this is the most irritating thing to happen to him, post- Hydra.

It's one of those weeks where the Avengers are stationed in some third world country defending civilians from a mess they didn't make for once, and the Tower is pretty lifeless, excitement-wise. The most interesting thing to occur since Bucky's boyfriend and the other Avengers left is a very minute fire in Stark's chemistry lab started by some intern on a tour with SHIELD's training program. Bucky had caught one or two tours in his free time, and it annoyed his soul to its deepest depth to see these young assholes so fucking eager to work for SHIELD when he's been waiting over a year to get out in the field.

He's damn near one-hundred; how much is he going to have to endure before he's presented a chance to redeem himself and punch out some mutant science experiment gone wrong or knock out an alien with his new Wakandan tech arm made entirely of vibranium and thousands of apologies on T'Challa's part.

Truthfully, the only thing even remotely interesting about the intern's tour is _Darcy fucking Lewis_.

After being promoted to a Level 4 Agent - benefits of that included a hand gun on her person, The Avengers' Floor access at SHIELD headquarters, an apartment within Avengers Tower, and a very gracious paycheck - she overtook all Level 1's, 2's, and 3's recruiting, employment, human resources, pay roll, and other various responsibilities that no one would expect a bubbly spitfire of a dame like her to be responsible for. Her personal growth of maturity since first being hired on account of Coulson vouching to Nick Fury at the mere age of twenty-one to now at twenty-six is something she should be extremely proud of.

Although she's grown more into herself, that does not mean she's any less of the college girl she was when she proudly tased Thor.

There was always something about that woman that caught Bucky's eyes, attracting him to her in a way he didn't understand in the times he'd seen her around. When Natasha had first introduced them, his jaw was nearly on the floor; they didn't build women like her from when he's from. He wouldn't say he's interested in her in that way, but it's easy to see why any other man would be.

Steve, the fucking punk, was completely oblivious to Bucky knowing damn well that he had a huge crush on the girl despite being in a committed relationship with Bucky. Bucky is secure enough in his relationship to know that Steve wouldn't entertain his attraction to Darcy or do something unfaithful, so it's ten times funnier whenever Steve has to talk to the broad and stutters over his words like she weren't a whole foot shorter than him.

He gets it though; Steve has a thing for thick brunettes with pale blue eyes and a low tolerance for his bullshit.

Since it's Saturday night and the interns didn't tour on the weekends, he figures the dame might be free. If he's gonna be here until hell freezes over, he might as well bother someone.

Before exiting he and Steve's floor, he turns off the television and plasters a cheeky smirk on his face as he asks the AI on surveillance, "FRIDAY, can I get a location on Agent Lewis?"

"Miss Lewis is currently in her quarters. Do you want me to alert her of your visit?" the intelligent AI asks.

"Sure. Why not?"

The ride down to Darcy's apartment three floors below he and Steve's is quiet and quick, giving him barely enough time to think of a greeting for when he enters her apartment. He's not nervous around females in the slightest, but Darcy's level of attractiveness is one to be intimidated by even if he did sway more towards men than women on the scale of his bisexuality, if that's what he could classify it as.

The one or two - okay, more like _seven_ \- movie nights with her and the Avengers deemed her to be someone he could get along with. Bucky didn't get along with many, but if Steve, the embodiment of goodness, swears she's a good egg, he'll take his word for it and try.

The elevator doors are sliding open to her apartment the second it arrives at her floor, revealing her spacious living room decorated like an IKEA spread, smelling like a cabin in the snowy mountains, and blaring some rap music he's sure was on Clint's list for music he should catch up on.

His first step inside is cautious.

With one glance to the left and right, he sees she's nowhere in sight and that the opening room is vacant. Advancing further into the apartment, he inhales the candles she's gotten lit around the apartment and instantly vows that instead of sitting on his ass all day, he'll invest in some home improvement projects. Darcy's place is beautifully color coordinated and personal in every sense of the word with her college degrees hung on the wall, pictures of her family, friends, and the Avengers on display, and walls painted colors Bucky wouldn't think to put on a wall. Even her carpet is clean like it had never seen feet, so out of respect, he removes his boots and places them on the hardwood of her dining room.

 

The music is coming from down the hall where her bedroom and bathroom must be. He definitely hears her singing along to the lyrics, and she doesn't sound half bad. Even though he's sure she won't hear him, he calls out her name regardless and waits a second before walking down that direction.

"Darcy?" he calls again and before he can round the corner into her bedroom, out of his peripherals he spots the blurred pale calve swinging swiftly for his neck and catches the attached ankle in his flesh hand with no issue.  His eyes roll to the direction the leg came from to meet Darcy Lewis's focused gaze on his impressed feux-annoyed expression.

She's in a silk pink robe, hair in a towel, fists balled in a defensive stance. Her nail polish is bright red, matching her unnaturally pink cheeks.

"One spar with The Black Widow and _you_ think you can take _me_?" He yells confidently over the music with that same shit eating smirk as before, unaware that he's a second from being knocked on his ass.

It's too fast, even for him, when her ankle jerks forward in his weak grasp, hitting him dead in his Adam's Apple, leaving him unbalanced and unprepared as her thighs connect at his throat and twist him off his equilibrium until he's breathless on his back, face only inches from her crotch.

With a smirk matching his own, she leans down to him so he can hear her taunt, "Seventy years as The Winter Soldier and _you_ think you can take _me_?"

If Bucky weren't coughing so much, he'd  express how much of a privilege it was to be between her legs, but judging by the way Darcy winks at him as she helps him back to his feet, she already knows.

Once Bucky regains his breathing pattern through a coughing fit and some tears, he eyes Darcy's attire up and down as she swishes her wide hips on the way back to her bathroom. She lowers the music on her phone just enough to be heard as she sits at the extravagant vanity table equipped with lights, a heart shaped mirror, and beauty products scattered on its table top.

"To what do I owe this visit, Barnes?" she comically asks, inviting Bucky in with a wave of her hand. He complies and enters the bathroom, sitting atop the closed toilet seat with his arms crossed.

"You can call me Bucky."

"I can also call you Ronald McDonald, but I prefer Barnes," she snickers and unwraps the towel from around her head to let her damp dark brown hair flop down to her back.

"Okay, Lewis," he says just as sharply and leans back with his arms crossed. "This visit is because I'm bored and you're the only halfway exciting thing around here when Captain Shithead and his league of little shits are on assignment."

"I'm flattered, but I can't amuse you with my dazzling personality at the moment. I-" she pauses to sigh heavily. "- Have a date."

Bucky's eyes brows shoot to his hairline. "People still go on dates in this century?"

 

"You may have been in and out of a freezer for seventy years, sheltered from literally everything but you're still of this century," she reminds him as she brushes out her hair with smooth precision. "But, yes, it's shocking that a guy actually wants to take a gal out to dinner and a movie instead of a booty call."

"What's his name?"

"Ian," she answers shortly and gestures to her phone attached to the speakers. "You can pick out a song if you'd like."

Bucky stands from his seat and browses Darcy's music library, recognizing a surprisingly large amount of the songs listed and taps one at random.

"I love this song," she tells him and turns the music up just enough to be heard over her hair drying roaring hot air. He watches with fascination as she dries her hair and makes a show out of styling it by singing into her flat iron like it's a microphone in between straightening frizzy locks of hair down. She's  halfway done when she looks back at him inquisitively and turns the music down again.

"Are you seriously just gonna stare at me?"

"I told you why I'm here," he chuckles and shrugs. "Just pretend I'm not."

"If you're gonna be here, you might as well make yourself useful," she says and hold out the hair straightener. "You mind finishing the top while I get started on my makeup? I'm already, like , half an hour late."

Perplexed by her instructions, he stares at the device for a second before looking back to her and seeing that she's serious. This woman is truly as fearless as Thor describes her to be; what sane person would allow The Winter Soldier into their apartment let alone in their apartment, with no means of protections and hand him a hot instrument such as a hair straightener and _not_ fear for their life?

Since he's been truly back into the world, Bucky had been getting the same tentative treatment from everyone, including Steve. He thought SHIELD was supposed to be badass, not a damn daycare.

Everyone tiptoed around his feelings and did their best to not say anything triggering or inappropriate to avoid him going into a Winter Soldier mode, which annoyed him to the moon and back since all he's trying to do is feel comfortable in his own skin again. That process doesn't help when everyone's trying to coddle him like a baby in need of guidance - he didn't expect it from Natasha, but it's either that or she avoids him entirely. It's only worse because Steve especially does it and because he's a natural born leader, everyone follows his behaviors around Bucky, blindly thinking that treating him like a glass vase is going to help his recovery.

If he weren't such a dick, he'd be grateful Sam doesn't do it.

But Darcy is _not_ a dick, and he appreciates that she just tried to take his head off and sasses him. He appreciates that she's herself. She actually wants him to straighten her hair.

Actually being around someone who isn't afraid of him is refreshing.

"I'll never understand _why_ it takes women so long to get ready," he mutters under his breath and takes the device in his bionic hand briefly by its hot end before switching it to his flesh hand.

 

"Because we do shit like tussle with bored hot assassins when we should be putting on makeup," she says matter of fact.

"You already being thirty minutes for a date ain't got a thing to do with me." He stands behind her and easily enough takes a lock of her hair into his hands, sets it between the flat iron, runs the two plates down the length of her hair just as he watched her do.

Proud of himself, he does another lock the same way with a grin as wide as Texas. It's childishly magical to him, so he does another.

In between straightening her hair, he watches her apply her makeup through the mirror. The hair is a magic he can understand, but the bottles, tubes, brushes,  and liquids Darcy's got scattered on her vanity table are more than what he's used to understanding.

Bucky isn't so ignorant to makeup to not know the merit of what it does, but it's definitely advanced since the forties. He's seen Natasha put on makeup before, but the collection that Darcy has is extensively impressive, overflowing with shines, shimmers, mattes, glitters, and colors Steve would die to paint with.

When he finishes with her hair, he unplugs the straightener and takes a seat on the toilet again, engrossed in the makeup routine unfolding before his very eyes. The process is beyond fascinating to witness since Darcy is what he'll assume is a pro at this.

Before doing anything else, Darcy pumps a white lotion mixture from a blue bottle into her palm, rubs her hands together, and applies it to her face until it's thoroughly rubbed in on her pale and blemish free face.

Nothing dramatically changes in her appearance, so Bucky assumes it's a moisturizer. What he doesn't get is why she does the exact same thing with a similar mixture from a different bottle, so he speaks up.

"What's that?" He points at the second bottle and crosses his arms over his chest again.

She follows his finger and wags the bottle around. "Oh, _this_? It's a face primer. It helps my makeup stay on and stuff," she explains poorly, then points to the blue bottle. "That's moisturizer. I have naturally dry skin and my face will be mad at me if I don't use it."

Bucky laughs with her and nods. "Makes sense."

Darcy, fully intrigued by her own face, barely notices the engrossed nature in which Bucky watches her put on her makeup. Either that or she doesn't comment on how adorable it is that he's finding amusement in this. It's nice to be admired.

After letting her primer settle, Darcy plucks a  brush from the bundle on the table top and reaches under the vanity to pull open a drawer, muttering something about her eyebrows.

"What are you doing?"

"Looking for my eyebrow pomade."

Unsure, Bucky nods and can't seem to bite his tongue hard enough to not ask, "What's eyebrow pomade?"

"It's a little pot of brown gooey stuff I put on my eyebrows."

"Why?" He sounds like a curious child.

"So that they're nice and thick when I can shape them how I want."

"That seems like a lot."

"Seems?" She repeats, rustling through multiple jars before finding the pot and tapping the top with her spoolie brush. "It is. But when I finish, it's gonna be so worth it and you'll appreciate the art for what it is."

Darcy runs the spoolie over her eyebrows to tame them down before dipping an angled brush's tip into the pomade and filling her eyebrows in. Within seconds, they're thicker  just like she'd said.

"What's that?"

"This?" She holds up a cylinder tube a shade darker than her skin tone. "This is concealer."

"What's that do?"

She narrows her eyes at him through the mirror and frowns. "Conceals."

True to her word, she evenly shapes her eyebrows with the concealer liquid at the end of yet another brush Bucky didn't recognize and watches in amazement as the brush glides above and below her brow bone, covering and cleaning any mistakes she'd made filling in her eyebrows. It's witchcraft, he swears.

"Where'd you learn to do this all of this?" Bucky asks at random when she sets her eyebrows with a clear gel. "You're good at it, Lewis."

"A lot of YouTube tutorials," she answers honestly, chuckling at her reflection. "I was an ugly duckling as a kid, so it was either learn how to do makeup or risk getting picked on."

"Do you enjoy it at least?"

"Oh, _hell yeah._ At first I was like ' _wow_ _makeup has been convenient for my never ending ugliness and horrible attitude'_ but now it's like _'wow, I'm so hot and I can be even hotter with this contour.'_ "

"Huh?"

"I'll get to it later. That's a few steps from now."

If there's one thing he can appreciate about this dame, it's how confident she is. She reminds him of himself - or what he can remember of himself back in the thirties and forties.

"What's after eyebrows?"

"Eyeshadow."

He's not sure why it relaxes him or why he's interested, but he is and he's definitely fulfilling his goal of having something to do tonight. Not before long, he's smiling as he talks to her and watches her play with colors and paint her face into a new one.

The eyeshadow process is a journey of its own that reminds him of the drawings and sketches Steve picked up again - before he got overly busy with avenging shit - in the way that both he and Darcy use a steady hand to create masterpieces on their canvas with smooth precision and focus but so seasoned at it that they don't have to think twice about using a color and blending it with another. It starts with a sticky white substance from a purple tube that she uses a the tip of her finger to tap into her eyelid.

"And before you ask because you got that look on your face that says you're about to," she interrupts his thoughts with a finger in his direction, calling him out without even having to see his amazed expression. "It's eyeshadow primer."

"I'm guessing it's not the same as a face primer even though your eyelids are on your face," he quips smartly, and the other brunette rolls her eyes playfully before reaching over to hit his chest with a barely  balled fist.

"It's actually _not_ , Barnes. It's so my eyeshadow will stay on and not smudge for the duration of its wear." She tells him and flips her hair dramatically over her shoulder before leaning back towards the mirror. Her shampoo whips him right in his nostrils and it's an understatement to say he's turned on by it. No shit why Steve likes this dame so much.

It's unconventional, but Darcy's building up a sultry purple smoky eye, starting with a russet undertone color on her  eyelid, building it up to a plum purple on the surface of her eyelid. With a fluffier brush, she blends the purple into a dark brown on the outer corner of her eye before using what she calls a transitional shade to even out the russet at her brow bone with a much light color to create a barrier where her eyeshadow begins and where her eyebrow highlight ends.

Fascinated, Bucky's got his jaw on the floor as she repeats the same process on the other eye flawlessly even while dancing to the pop song her phone shuffled on. Her winged eyeliner is immaculate, dark, and sharp enough to slit a man's throat open if she blinks fast enough -  that part including the mascara and false lashes fascinated him the most.

After cleaning up the wings with concealer, she opens up a glass bottle similar to the concealer which shouldn't excite Bucky to know what it is, but he does.

"Concealer!" He exclaims. Darcy shoots him a rueful smile and shakes her head with her teeth and tongue making a smacking sound.

"Sorry, Sarge, but this is actually foundation. It's for-"

"I'm not a total idiot. You put it on your face and it covers all the little blemishes and what not."

"Actually, I use it to even out my skin tone.  It feels weird and it's unethical to wear makeup without foundation. I feel naked."

"That could be because you're in a robe that barely covers your kitten," he says automatically, and really, it's something the old Bucky Barnes would say. Flirting is second nature, seventy years of brainwashing and torture be damned.

"Thanks for noticing," she replies with a smoky-eyed wink in his direction, purring under her breath to further his point. When she turns back to her reflection, he silently bites his lip and doesn't let her see his eyes cascade up and down that body of hers.

The foundation and its powder are the quickest and easiest to be put on. She finishes that in seconds before getting a different bottle of concealer from her collection and applying it to various area points on her face like under her eyes, her chin, the tip and bridge of her nose, and her forehead. With a pink diamond shaped sponge, she blends in the concealer with rapid dabs and hilarious facial expressions.

Bucky laughs at her before she tosses the beauty blending sponge in his direction in mock-annoyance and pulls out a palette of various shades of brown creams.

"And that is?"

"It's a contour palette."

"For contouring..."

"My face," she finishes and points to the second to lightest brown in the set. "I use this shade."

"And contouring is...?"

"The blessing in which you can make your face look thinner and your facial features more prominent by the trick of shadows and lighting. Basically you can build a new face."

"Your face already looks fine t'me, Lewis," he says it to be flirtatious but she flips her hair again with a snicker.

"And now it will look hella fine. Just watch."

And he does faithfully.

Within a matter of minutes, Darcy's hollowed out her face, making the apples of her cheeks appear more prominent than before, accentuating the subdued orange blush she dusts her cheeks with. He bridge of her nose  is slimmer as well, and true to her word, she does look _hella fine_ with her new face.

She looks like Darcy in the same way she doesn't look like Darcy. It's an optical illusion he can't figure out and trying to pinpoint where she looks different are making his head hurt.

" _Damn_ ," he utters under his breath and claps for her magic trick as she bows with a flick of her hand in the air then swirling against her midriff. "Not bad, doll."

"Thank you for noticing."

"How could I not?"

"Not all boys are so bored that they take notice of when my cheeks are red, orange, or pink," Darcy informs him and shrugs. "It's nice for _someone_ to notice and appreciate the work I put into my face even if it is for _my_ liking more so than another person's."

Bucky nods and thinks that one over. "I get it. You know you're doing the best job you can, and you like for people to recognize that you are. It's human nature."

He, better than anybody, can relate to that.

Darcy cocks an arched brow at that and flashes him a wandering gaze when he's looking off at the floor. She doesn't know if he knows that she knows that his statement had nothing to do with the boys Darcy dates noticing her immaculate makeup.

She clears her throat to regain his attention and swiftly flicks her eyes back to her reflection when they make eye contact. "Last part," she announces and rattles a plastic bin full of lipgloss and lipstick. "The lips. How 'bout you pick a color for me, Sarge?"

She presents the bin to him with an inviting and patient smile while his eyes and brain try to compute the various shades of pinks, purples, blues, reds, and nudes. At random, he picks up a light brown tube of matte liquid lipstick titled "Luscious" and gives it to Darcy.

"I like this one," he tells her honestly, confident in his choice even before Darcy takes the tube in hand and nods in agreement.

"A dark eye like this doesn't need anything dramatic for the lips, so I applaud your eye for color and balance."

"I wasn't thinking about that. I just like that color," he confesses with a shrug and accepts Darcy's compliment anyway with a grateful grin.

She swipes the applicator wand across her plump bottom lip multiple times until the formula evens out and does the same to her top lip without rubbing or smudging the product in. Her lips are instantly a matte warm, natural brown when the product dries.

"Kiss test," she says under her breath and before Bucky can react properly, she's off the vanity bench, hovering over top of him then coming down at quick speed just to bounce back to an upright standing position in just seconds.

Before anything else, he realizes that the spot on his face that she'd pecked is burning and he's probably red all over. He doesn't usually blush, but when he does, he's practically a tomato on fire. He touches his cheek to feel the skin she'd kissed buzz excitedly and meets her eyes as she continues to look down at him with the sane admiration  he had watching her put on makeup.

She caresses the skin under his fingers to feel for any transfer of product, and there isn't any, but she continues to rub his skin just for the feel of it.  "All dry," Darcy tells him and returns the smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Setting spray now."

"Which I'm guessing sets your face."

"Looks who is learning," she teases, holding the white bottle of setting spray about six inches from her face then spraying a clear mist. The spray particles land and she immediately begins fanning her face to make it dry quicker.

"Since I'm a good hour or so late, do you mind helping me find something to wear?"

Bucky nods in agreement and follows her out of the bathroom into the bedroom. She opens her walk-in closet doors to reveals the mountains of clothes, cluttered shoes, and tangled accessories handing on the wall.

"I guess hangers aren't a thing in this century?" He comments upon evaluating the mess that screams nothing but pure laziness.

" _Shh_! Quiet, you!" She hisses and hits his chest again as she daintily steps over mountain after mountain of clothes. "It may look like a mess to you, but I know exactly where everything is."

"As long as you know." He rolls his eyes and does the same thing she does until he's standing on a free patch of carpet unoccupied by clothes and shoes.

" _That_ pile-" she points to her left, "-is my formal slash date attire. That's the pile you need to look through."

"And where's this guy taking you?"

"We're going to dinner at some Italian place near his campus," she answers but shrugs with an afterthought.  "That could mean really fancy, high class Italian which calls for a dress and heels, but more than likely, it's an Olive Garden 'cus he is a student."

"Or a Pizza Hut."

"All the more reason to just play it safe with a black pair of leggings and a sexy top."

Without any warning or prompt, her robe is being dropped to the floor in a pool around her ankles, leaving her in just a black lacy bra and thong duo that contract beautiful on her pale skin. Stunned that she would just nonchalantly do that in front of him, he immediately glances away. He'd like to steal a look to collect some mental shots of her gorgeous plump ass, thick waist, child bearing hips, thighs of stealing, and breasts for his spank bank, but he's still a gentleman and the only reason she probably did it is because she thinks Bucky is gay.

Well, he _is_.

_And_ he's in a committed relationship.

_And_ this is the girl his guy's been drooling over for forever.

When he puts it _that_ way, the whole situation seems _royally_ _fucked_. With his luck over the past seventy years, he's been in some pretty shit situations, but feeling bad for eyeballing  the half-naked dame his boyfriend has a crush on has to take the cake. None of it made sense, but that doesn't stop him from chuckling nervously.

"You're a great _ass_ et to SHIELD, Lewis," he blurts out and wants to smack himself upside his head and expect her to do it for him, but instead she laughs along with him and tosses some clothes to the side in search of a top.

"And again, thanks for noticing. Didn't think anybody else _ass_ ets would compare when you've got Captain America's to look at all day. He's probably the best asset there is."

" _Debatable_ ," Bucky grumbles under his breath when he takes the chance when her back is turned to stare at the beauty of her body. It's not a sexually predatory gaze so much as it is fascination and reverence.

_What a dame_.

Bucky finds her a pair of black leggings to match the sporty half top she picked out. He tosses her a random leather jacket he finds sprawled on the floor and to his delight, it works with the greaser gal looks she had no intention of achieving. The ensemble is too spunky for a high class Italian joint, but just right for a Pizza Hut.

"You look like something out of the no good part of town," he says, as he helps her find her other combat boot.

"Hope that's forties talk for 'I'm a bad bitch'," she mutters, tying her boot up.

"Excuse me?"

"Have you not reached the slang portion of this century?" She teases and finds the other shoe under her panties pile.

"I've been unfrozen for three years now. I _know_ what a bad bitch is," he lies, leans on the doorway threshold of her closet and offers a description before she can test him. "It's, ya know, um... when a dame, such as yourself, is... _bad_. The _good_ kind of bad, like-"

"Michael Jackson bad."

Bucky nods in understanding.  Sam showed him _that_ album, and for once, he's grateful he forced him to listen to it back to back.

"Exactly."

Darcy's laugh is music to his ears. "Close enough. It applies to guys, too. The prime example being your boy, Captain Fine."

Bucky blushes. "Yeah. Steve's a bad one," he agrees fondly. Such a great _ass_ et.

"You're pretty bad yourself, Barnes," she adds on her way out of the closet to her jewelry box on her dresser. "Natasha mentioned that if you had to be female, you'd probably be me, which in turn makes me a bad bitch, as well."

"Natasha's bad, too."

" _Mmm_ ," she agrees as she clips her earrings in. "In his own way, Clint is, too."

" _Definitely_ Thor."

"Bruce could get it."

"Stark, with the right amount of coaxing, could, too," Bucky surprises himself with that one. "Just fair to say that all of the Avengers are bad bitches."

Darcy snickers and adjusts her necklace. "That's one way to put it."

The following morning, Bucky awoke on Darcy's couch to the aroma of coffee and fancy smelling perfume flirting with his nostrils while the most obnoxious rap beat to ever grace his ears blast throughout the apartment. He doesn't remember falling asleep at all after Darxy had left. However, what he does remember is Darcy isn't kicking him out when she'd departed for her date and instead told him to make himself at home and that he was welcome to anything.

The most he did with that was watching a movie or two, eating some leftovers that were on their way to be thrown out anyway, and for a moment, he was tempted to go through her makeup and practice on himself to see how good or bad he was at it, but decided against it because her tools and products look more expensive that Bucky would care to think about replacing if he fucked something up.

Like an instinct, he gravitated towards the coffee smell in the kitchen to see a fresh pot in its maker. Every bit of lethargic grogginess melts away at that first sip out of one of Darcy's decorative mug and he's more tolerable to the loud music. Every situation must call for music with this dame.

Mug in hand, he travels back down the hallway to Darcy's bedroom, her door wide open in invitation. When he enters, there's no leg aiming for his neck, but he catches the woman of the hour dancing, half clothed, in front of the full length mirror hung on the wall facing the entrance.

Catching a glimpse of him behind her, Darcy twirls in excitement and smiles a matte cherry red smile in his direction. Her face is dolled up in the most natural way possible with neutral  eyeshadow, pink cheeks, and eyelashes wispy enough to be her own. Bucky highly proud of himself for noticing her makeup before the pert display of her beautiful ass in a pair of high waisted denim shorts.

Wars have been fought for girls like this.

"Mornin'! How'd ya sleep?" She asks after turning the volume down.

Bucky shrugs. "Pretty well," he tells her and sips some more coffee. "Where are you all dolled up to go? Breakfast date with your latest victim?"

She chuckles and turns back to the mirror. "Not this morning. Ian has other errands to run, and I'm in just too good of a mood to stay in the tower, especially on a Sunday."

"I take it last night was a success with this fella," he concludes and has a seat on the side of her unmade bed.

Darcy worms around that statement and just shakes her hips to and fro with the soothing synth-pop song playing now. "Turns out it was an Olive Garden 'cus he had coupons."

Bucky's eyebrows furrow, perplexed. "I'm not too up to date on the whole dating scene since I've been with the same old fart since I  was a young boy myself, but that sounds a tad cheap."

That fazes her none as she goes back and forth from her closet to her mirror in various tops. "When you grow up as ghetto as me, it's the little things that count in a person like taking you to a dingy Olive Garden five minutes before it closes, using coupons, forgetting your wallet so I have to pay, and getting flat out drunk that really lock in a lady for a second date."

Bucky winces at the details, but laughs at her heavy sarcasm. "You won't be seeing him again?"

"Hell _no_. Stared at my tits all night and had the nerve to try and get me to stay at his place. I called an Uber and came home. I might be a hoe, but I'm classy about it."

He's about to say something, but he just decides it's best to let Darcy use her twenty-first century vernacular as it is without questioning it. "I'm sorry, Lewis. You deserve better," he offers instead, but she waves it off. "What are you doing today then?"

"I've decided it's a girls day for me," Darcy answers and acquires her jewelry for the outfits she's settled on. "But Jane's teaching a class, Pepper is out of the country as is Natasha, and Coulson took his team on assignment on Friday so no Daisy or Bobbi for me."

" _Aw_ ," he hums and shakes his head. "Shame."

"So, technically it's just a Darcy day."

They occupy the space of Darcy's bedroom for a second of silence before Bucky can stop himself from suggesting, "How 'bout _I_ join you today?"

It comes out before he can stop it, but even as the question hangs in the air, he can't bring himself to regret asking it even when Darcy whips around to stare at him with wide speculating eyes. He just shrugs and stands, coffee mug still in hand.

"You entertained me last night, so I figure I might as well accompany you on your Darcy day," he explains himself, taking a gulp of coffee. "My friends are gone, too. We're in the same boat, Lewis so we might as well sink together."

With a grin sneaking its way onto her softening expression, she gives him a once over and pokes his chest with her index finger. "You don't even know what a Darcy day includes."

"Doesn't matter. It's just nice having somebody who isn't afraid of me."

"Afraid of _you_?" She scoffs with a laugh. "Does a tiger fear a lion?"

He laughs too now. "Hanging around Thor has made you quite the poet."

She rolls her eyes comically and pushes him towards the door. "Go back to your apartment, shower, and meet me in the lobby. We've got a day ahead of us."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I actually might get serious about this story. 
> 
> *heavy sigh* Shit.

The rush of spending a day with Darcy felt a lot like the first time Steve had asked Bucky out on an official date equipped with taking him to dinner, catching a movie, and giving him the kiss of a lifetime before fucking him into a twelve hour coma the morning afterwards.  
  
It's not _that_ intense but the feeling is still there. It's not everyday he submits himself to the entertainment of a dame as gorgeous as Darcy.  
  
Since he's no clue of what a Darcy day includes, he opted for a multipurpose look of black jeans and a Henley to go with his boots and jacket and made fast work of meeting Darcy in the Tower's lobby. She's leaning against a wall adjacent to the entrance, distracted by her phone and just when Bucky gets the idea to spook her, she spins about to face him and grants him a cheeky smile.  
  
"Ready?" She chirps, putting her phone in her back pocket.  
  
_Damn, that Natasha trained her well._ "Yeah," he barely mumbles before his flesh hand is entwined within hers and she's pulling him to the entrance away from the hustle and bustle of Avenger's Tower employees and occupants. Eagerly, she climbs into the backseat of the black SHIELD issue SUV waiting for them and he follows, nodding gratefully at the driver holding the door open for him.  
  
"Where to first, Agent Lewis?" The driver asks of her after buckling himself in.  
  
Darcy grins and rubs her hands together excitedly. "Sephora!" she cheers and nudges Bucky's arm with her own. "If you liked what I did last night, you'll _love_ this."  
  
"I don't know if I like the sound of that," he says, half serious when he notices the mischievous twinkle in the woman's blue eyes.  
  
"You will."  
  
Anything that can make a firecracker like Darcy smile that wide is obviously a force not to be reckoned with. Makeup is pretty harmless, and if it's included in a day with Darcy, then Bucky is more than willing to assist her. He enjoys having a normal friend who'll help him adjust to the normal modern age aspects of America he hadn't been exposed to yet like makeup, fashion, and the media.  
  
"You think they'll have something for my ugly mug?" He jokes the second they stroll into the black and white striped building, and Darcy only giggles slightly before getting distracted by glittery eyeshadows and gravitating towards the display. Bucky's never seen anyone's eyes light up so bright as she taps a nearby employee in black and red with a makeup belt hung around her waist on her shoulder to get her attention. Without realizing why, a genuine smile creeps to the side of his face when he watches her closely.  
  
Like she senses it, Darcy turns to face him in the middle of the employee explaining the product as she swatches it on her wrist. She smiles back at him and nods towards the rest of the store as though to say _"have a look around."_  
  
Initially, the gesture catches him off guard considering he's not sure what he would find for himself in a store like this. Men wearing makeup isn't a new thing in the slightest, but Bucky never thought he'd be one of those men. To be fair, he does have dry skin and discoloration in some areas that could use some help. He might as well have a look while he's here.  
  
Hands deep within his jean pockets, he maintains as inconspicuous as he's able to as he observes the foundations, concealers, eyeshadows, and various other products on the shelves with interest, trying to figure out for himself what he needs and doesn't need.  If not for watching Darcy last night, he might be as ignorant about this stuff as the average man. He's in between asking help to figure out which products are best for what and being left to his own guessing so not to attract attention to himself and away from customers who actually know what they want.  
  
Eventually, he doesn't have to when a female employee appears beside him, staring at the products and then him with a patient smile. "Did you need help with something?"  
  
_Lady, you don't even know the half._  
  
Momentarily with the nerve to lie and tell her no, he aborts the idea considering this is what she's here for and opens his mouth but righty closes it.  
  
"Are you shopping for someone else?" She asks politely after Bucky takes a moment to mentally gather his words.  
  
"Um, no," he admits and instinctively points to the general direction where Darcy is. "I'm here with a friend of mine, and she suggested I take a look around."  
  
"Anything you were looking for in particular?"  
  
It's a question delivered so sincerely it almost distracts him from watching the employee's brown eyes dart around different area points of his face, practically zeroing in and analyzing every flaw and mentally pairing it with a product solution before he can even say anything else. She's still smiling like she's happier to be here than anywhere else, but everyone knows it's her job to appear approachable or else you have customers like Bucky who avoid asking for assistance.  
  
"I have dry skin and discoloration," he tells her as if she already couldn't tell. As an after thought, he adds, "and bags under my eyes. My friend, ugh, knows more about this than I do and she'd assist me but she's clearly too distracted by other things."  
  
He gestures towards Darcy again who already has a basket hung at the bend between her forearm and bicep, intensely browsing the aisles of makeup as though she were grocery shopping. The employee nods and turns back to him.  
  
"Relatable," she comments and shrugs. It puts Bucky at ease. "So, essentially what you're searching for is a cover-up or a treatment?"  
  
"Both," he says because it sounds right. Replenishing his skin back to the velvety smoothness it was pre- war is something to occupy him until his friends come home.  
  
"Any particular brand you have in mind? I have some suggestions for you."  
  
Bucky chuckles at her constant sincerity. "I don't know brands, ma'am. Anything that doesn't test on animals is fine."  
  
"Perfect," she cheers and bats her eyelashes at him before swishing on her flats to the skin care section of the store. "Follow me. I have just what you need!"  
  
This century offered _a lot._  
  
Like a curious puppy eager to learn, he follows the enthusiastic employee around the store, half listening to what she was boasting on about with each product she suggested and handed to him. He recognizes every other bottle as something he'd seen in Darcy's or Natasha's bathroom which must mean he's in for a deal. He's not sure how it happened, but within twenty minutes, he's had foundation and concealer swatched and sampled on his face and wrist and a lesson on brushes he'll need to use it all.  
  
Like he'd predicted, he is finished shopping before Darcy and joins her at her spot in line after using the credit card Steve left him to purchase two faces washes, color corrector, moisturizers, face primer, foundation, concealer, face masks, brushes, and a beauty blender. As he swiped the card and thanked the employee who helped him, he could only imagine the confused look on Steve's face when he checks the bank statement. ('What did you spend nearly two-hundred dollars on at a makeup store, Buck?' 'Don't worry 'bout it, Stevie. Hey, check out my skin, though.')  
  
"What'd you get?" She peeps into his bag with a self satisfied smirk. "Kat Von D Lock-It foundation," she says approvingly with a nod. "That shit could cover up a murder."  
  
"I wanna look good for my man when he comes home from war," he says that almost jokingly, saddening himself in the process. He always realizes how much he misses Steve until he or someone else mentions him.  
  
"How is Cap?" she asks nonchalantly, moving up in line.  
  
It's been days since Steve left on his mission, and he still hasn't contacted Bucky. Given the level of this assignment, he understands entirely. That occurs every time he leaves for a mission, and the one or two times Bucky tried to get in touch with him first were unsuccessful, so he figures it's safer to just wait on Steve.  
  
It sucks because he really misses his baby but he's unfortunately used to it. Bucky doesn't dawn on it too long when he answers. "Honestly, I have no clue. Does Thor usually keep in touch when he's on a mission?"  
  
Darcy shrugs and waves her basket around absently. "It depends. If it's within the country, he'll find a way to let me or Jane know he and the team are okay."  
  
"When was the last time you guys spoke?"  
  
"About a day or two before they left," she answers and catches the crestfallen look on his face before nudging his elbow with her own. "Same boat. Just sinking together."  
  
If it were possible to like her any more than he already does, he'd be Steve.  
  
Darcy's total is dramatically higher than Bucky's, but she doesn't even cringe as she swipes her metallic SHIELD pre-paid card and press the buttons to her pin. The SUV awaits as soon as they walk out of the store, each of their purchases taken off their person to the trunk without having to be request it.  
  
"I forgot the royal treatment accompanied with having a job at SHIELD," Bucky remarks when they get back into the backseat.  
  
"That and I'm halfway positive that these guys are scared half to death of losing their jobs if American hero, Sergeant James is dissatisfied with their service." Darcy clicks her seatbelt on and Bucky waits till she's finished rattling off an address to the driver before responding.  
  
"Sergeant James Barnes wouldn't throw a hissy fit over someone not opening a door for him, but The Winter Soldier? Oh, he'd be livid."  
  
Darcy laughs aloud and hits his shoulder playfully. "I'm sure the Soldier couldn't hurt a fly. I've seen the footage of him running rampant on DC, but I'm sure me when I'm on my period could do worse damage."  
  
That forces a chuckle out of Bucky and the driver, but Darcy's expression is serious as much as it is gorgeous, making Bucky swallow his amusement to search her expression for where he went wrong.  
  
"Um..."  
  
"You think I'm joking."  
  
"Aren't you?"  
  
One of her eyebrow quirks upward, testing him.  
  
" _You're serious_ ," he realizes and really has to fight laughter now.  
  
"As serious as a heart attack."  
  
His eyebrow mimics hers. "What are you saying, Lewis?"  
  
"Fight me."  
  
Her abruptness catches him all the way off guard and he's default reaction is to laugh now. There's _no way_ this woman is serious.  
  
"Wait, what? Why?"  
  
"You obviously think that just 'cus I'm five-two and part jello that I couldn't fuck more  shit up than the Soldier. Now, we have to fight for me to prove it."  
  
Her reasoning is justified, but Bucky always did like arguing. "I'm sure you proved yourself last night when you tried to dismember me and almost choked me out."  
  
"Oh, quit your whining," she teases, but still doesn't crack. "I'm serious. We can be friends today, but tomorrow morning, I'm kicking your ass."  
  
"Doesn't seem like a fair fight."  
  
"It's only unfair to the one who will lose."  
  
"You gotta quit with these wax poetics, Lewis."  
  
Conversation and harmless banter come easy for Darcy and Bucky which ultimately distracts them from the car ride itself, which is why Bucky is surprised when they appear in front of a nail salon.  
  
Upon entering the shop, the acidic odor or nail polish remover and other chemicals hit his nose double time. He sniffs past it and appreciatively takes in the immaculate and calm ambiance of the salon, the nail technicians hard at work, and customers relaxing in massage chairs as their feet soak.  
  
"Oh, it's Lewis!" An Asian employee rushes up to Darcy, arms spread wide for a hug. Darcy copies the gesture and hugs the woman back with a smile as wide as Texas.  
  
"What do we do for you today?"  
  
"My friend and I are here for pedicures. Also, I need a fill-in," she tells her, lazily pointing back at Bucky who is shaking his head even though neither women are paying him any attention.  
  
"Perfect!" The lady cheers and points to the wall near the entrance to show them the nail polish rack color coordinated from lightest to darkest. "Pick out color and we get right to you!"  
  
"Thank you!" Darcy chirps and makes it known she's ignoring Bucky's perplexed stare as she approaches the wall to pick out a color.  
  
"The makeup I can do, but I ain't getting my nails done."  
  
"Don't be such a girl," she bites back harmlessly with a wink that takes his breath away. "Quit with the fragile masculinity and pick out a color. It's gonna be on your toes so no one cares nor will they even see."  
  
Unsure, Bucky clears his throat. "Lewis, I don't know. I don't have the prettiest toes."  
  
"Which is why you're getting a pedicure. Here." She hands him a milky black polish in a square bottle. "Black manly enough for you?"  
  
"I take a nine inch dick in my ass almost every night that Steve's home, and you think I'm afraid of _not_ being _manly_?"  
  
Darcy considers it for a moment and surprisingly doesn't chuckle. "Is it _really_ nine inches?" she wonders, staring up at him hopefully. For a minute, he swears she's joking but narrows his eyes down at her when he figures she isn't.  
  
"Give or take. We've never thought to measure it."  
  
Darcy nods, taking in that minor fact with a grain of salt, beginning to grin like she's impressed. "Lucky you."  
  
"You not telling me something, Lewis?" He says it teasingly even though he's far more aware of that look in her eye than anything else. Steve gets that same look in his eye when someone mentions Darcy.  
  
Darcy shakes her head. "I just don't see the big deal with getting your toes done. It's just paint."  
  
That is a good point. "Just some things I have to get used to in this day and age."  
  
"In the three years you've been defrosted, I'm sure you've gotten hip to breaking gender norms."  
  
"Oh, have I," he agrees and thinks of the sights he's seen living in New York again, like a man on the subway wearing heels and a skirt and in the same day, encountering a female employee at Starbucks with her hair cut shorter than what he's used to.  
  
"So, you getting your toes done or not?"  
  
Bucky stalls for a moment, but Darcy continues to watch him as she backs away from the rack with a green polish in hand for her toes and a white polish for her fingernails. After a second, Bucky selects a more opaque black than the polish Darcy had picked out and smiles politely at an awaiting nail technician who he follows to the far back end of the salon to the pedicure station. Of the several chairs back there, he takes a seat next to the one Darcy occupies, ignoring the interested glances of the women taking notice of a six foot man who's appearance screams 'I can and might murder you with my left pinkie' submerging his feet into a foot bath filled with soaps, salts, and bubbling water hot enough to melt away his prior inhibitions.  
  
The satisfied look Darcy shoots him says of how proud she is. He returns it with a silly tongue flick.  
  
The pedicure is just as relaxing as Darcy promised aside from the displeased looks the nail technician give each other when they have to wrestle with him to keep his legs and feet still when they begins to cut his overgrown cuticles, file down his toes, and scrub away dead skin. Darcy snickers every once and while, hitting his shoulder playfully whenever he'd jerk.  
  
Darcy's toes were done before his, so he had no one to talk with while watching each one of his little piggies get painted two coats each of that black polish. While they dried from the clear top coat, he wiggled them excitedly and couldn't stop staring even as they dried under the fan provided.  
  
From his position in the salon, he kept his gaze on Darcy, analyzing and watching her mannerisms, hearing her hidden accent in certain words, noticing how her eyes glow as she watches the nail tech use a machine in her cuticles, and the shy smile playing a sweet game with her lips when someone compliments her.  
  
Every so often, an attribute or feature of hers will remind him of his old self, which is a comforting notion to dawn on. It's no mystery to think why Steve likes her, and Bucky still can't decide whether that's good or bad. The mere idea of he and Darcy together arouses him more than makes him jealous, and that's definitely messed up. He doesn't know what it means, but he knows he doesn't mind it. He knows it's normal to be possessive and jealous when the girl your boyfriend has a crush on makes heart eyes at the mention of said boyfriend, but he can't bring himself to those feelings - not with Darcy anyway.  
  
"Would you like eyebrow wax while you wait for girlfriend?" Another employee calls him out of his thoughts, touching his shoulder reassuringly.  
  
Bucky stammers for a moment in an attempt to decline the waxing services as well as tell the employee that Darcy isn't his girlfriend. When it takes too many efforts to get the words out, he stops kidding himself long enough to say, "Sure."  
  
How pristine Darcy's eyebrows look now and last night had undoubtedly influenced his decision to follow the employee through an exit with a bamboo curtain, down a hallway smelling of oils and fruity lotions to a tiny room with a massage chair and yellow wax heating in a pot on a lone counter. He made himself comfortable in the seat provided and nodded just enough to show he's listening when the employee begins talking.  
  
He'd never gotten his eyebrows done before despite Natasha's numerous attempts to pluck the excess hairs surrounding his eyebrow's natural shape. Steve, when he's feeling himself, will get a wax and try to persuade Bucky, but of course in the name of Darcy Lewis, he'll do this.  
  
Like the water from the pedicure, the hot wax melts any troubles away as it's being spread on the border of his left eyebrow. The  employee halts after ripping the strip of paper off of his face for a reaction but when Bucky doesn't give one, she shrugs and continues. It's gonna take more than hot wax and ripping the hairs right out of his face for Bucky to squirm. The process repeats about ten more times until some sharpening occurs and trimming scissors are taking across his forehead to clean up excess hair.  
  
"All done!" She announces after cleaning Bucky's face. "Here you go!"  
  
She gives him a hand mirror to look into and honestly, he doesn't look like a total bum anymore. He wiggles his newly arched eyebrows and runs a finger over the tiny hairs.  
  
"Wow," he hums in amazement. "Thank you."

When Bucky returns back to the front of the salon, Darcy's at the cash register in a pair of flimsy styrofoam flip flops swiping her credit card, doing a little dance of happiness that her nails are done. He grabs his shoes and a pair of flip flops for himself and joins her.  
  
"Well, if it isn't Mr. Handsome," Darcy drawls out at the sight of his eyebrows. "You look nice."  
  
"Thanks, Lewis. I figured I might as well since I already bought all that stuff to make my face pretty."  
  
"It's a nice look for you. Steve'll like it," she tells him as she signs the receipt.  
  
Hopefully Steve will be back before the hair grows back in to see this. If he isn't, he's glad Darcy got to appreciate it.  
  
Bucky paid for his nails and eyebrows then settled back into the SUV when it pulled up in front of the nail salon. Like before Darcy rattled off an address to the driver and sunk into her seat to admire her nails.  
  
"I don't usually do white 'cus I'm so pale, but I think it looks nice." She gives him a knowing look. "Think they'll give you half off if you ever decide to get your fingers done?"  
  
"Oh, you're hilarious."  
  
" _Hehehe_ ," she snickers to herself and pokes his face with a white square tip. "For someone who already looks so terrifying, you shouldn't pout so much."  
  
"Where'r we headed to now?"  
  
"Darcy days usually include seeing a movie. Is that alright with you?"  
  
"Depends on what we're seeing."  
  
"I think you'll like this one."  
  
"I trust you," he tells her and grins sideways. "It's kinda hard to get to the movies by car. Steve and I usually take the subway."  
  
Darcy nods and pretends to inspect her nails to hide her blushing. "You, Steve, and I should see a movie one day when he gets back."  
  
"The punk would like that." _And so would I._  
  
"Good," she says with a nod and pokes his cheek again.  
  
One of the reasons why Darcy enjoys seeing movies in the middle of the day is the lack of presence in the theater, meaning she's more inclined to make comments throughout the film but today as she took a seat in the empty theater next to Bucky, she'd never been more nervous to open her mouth. With the large popcorn bucket in her lap, she stuffs her face as much as possible to avoid making a stupid joke during the previews. Bucky must feel how tense she is, because he says something funny about the opening sequence of the film which gets her laughing and feeling relieved in the idea to take an ex-assassin turned redeeming hero in training to watch _Suicide Squad_.  
  
During the first act, both of them were intrigued in the characters and story despite not being familiar with any of it. Bucky had some commentary for each of them that bared along the lines of, _"Wow, he's probably a better shot than Clint," "Clown lady seems interesting...," "Boomerangs and unicorns? Well, I guess everyone needs their niche," "So was he bitten by a crocodile or-?,"_ and _"The gangster Johnny Storm is my favorite."_  
  
They got out a laugh or two, and were occupied until an hour later during the third act where Darcy had resigned to staring at Bucky as he watched the film. He seemed fascinated by the special effects and CGI, given when he's from a movie was a solid half an hour of just actors and camera tricks in black and white. From the looks of his raised eyebrows, dropped jaw, and intense stare, he's enjoying the movie more than Darcy is.  
  
After the movie ends, the time is around late afternoon and Darcy tells the driver to go back to Avenger's Tower. With the rush hour traffic, they make it back twenty minutes later than usual.  
  
Upon approaching the Tower, Bucky panics because he really doesn't want their time together to be over, especially when he's having such a good time with her. He, over the course of their day, has found a true person and not a hero, villain, god, or alien in her. He'd get his nails done a thousand times if it'll keep their time together going. At this point, he's not doing it out of boredom; he genuinely enjoys Darcy's company and every second he's around the woman, he grows more and more fond. This feeling has only ever happened with Steve, which is definitely saying something.  
  
She's barely out of the SUV before he's instinctively grabbing her hand with his flesh one for no reason. He doesn't know what compels him to do it, but it feels more right than anything he's gone in a long while.  
He looks like he's about to say something, but the glittery way her eyes stare at him has him tongue-tied and shook with fear. She glances at their connected hands before looking back to him and smiling as she intertwines them.  
  
"You wanna come back to my apartment?" He asks dumbly and gulps. _And do what when we get there?_  
  
"I was just about to ask you the same thing," she says and leads him out of the truck and into the building. "I wanted to show you some music and we could get some takeout."  
  
"Your idea sounds a little better than what I had planned."  
  
"Which was?" She asks as they file into the elevator, hands still connected.  
  
"First I was going to drug you, cut out your kidney, then sell it on the black market. Healthy gal like you probably has organs of steel that'll get me a pretty penny."  
  
"Sounds like a party," she says and nods, swinging their arms back and forth. "How do you know I'm not planing to do the same thing to you? You realize how much The Winter Soldier's kidney's'll sell on eBay?"  
  
"Your packages are being delivered to your quarters, Miss Lewis," FRIDAY suddenly informs them, her voice filling the elevator. "Would you like the same, Sergeant Barnes?"  
  
"Yes, please," he tells the AI. "Heard anything from Steve or the team yet?"  
  
"There has been no update on Captain America or the Avengers," she answers crisply and it might be Bucky's ears playing tricks on him, but FRIDAY sounds almost as sad about their absence as he is.  
  
"You think you could tell us when there is?" Darcy asks now, squeezing Bucky's hand to remind him of the same boat concept.  
  
"As you wish, Agent Lewis. Anything else I can assist you with?"  
  
"Get a take out menu to my place. Barnes and I are on a date."  
  
She's definitely joking but the statement still makes butterflies flutter in the pit of his stomach. When they reach her apartment floor, there's   a handful of takeout menu options spread on the island in the center of the kitchen along side her Sephora shopping bag. As they walk in, they toss their shoes to the unused dining area and discard the flip flops.  
  
"So, what are you in the mood for?" She asks, bent forward into the refrigerator to retrieve two waters, ass cheeks spilling from her high waisted shorts. Bucky clears his throat and tries his hardest to discard of all the indecent thoughts flooding his mind.  
  
"I don't mind sharing a pizza," he says after a quick glance at one of the menus.  
  
"Do I look like the type of girl to _share_ a pizza?"  
  
One of the waters fly to his face at lightning speed but he catches it like second nature without even glancing at it. "I doubt an elf like you you can eat an entire pizza by herself."  
  
"Is this a bet I smell, Barnes?"  
  
Her smirk is mischievous and nearly sexy as she stalks towards him, snapping her bottle open and taking a healthy gulp. He narrows his grey eyes at her and cocks an eyebrow to his hairline.  
  
"You're always trying to challenge me."  
  
" _Trying_ ," she repeats, grabs the pizza menu, and her cellphone from her back pocket. "What toppings do you want?"  
  
Bucky swore Darcy was kidding when she ordered two large pizzas, cheese for her and meat lovers for him, but saw very son realized that none of this was a joke when the pizza delivery boy delivered two giant pizza boxes half an hour later. After Darcy paid him, she carried both boxes to the living room to be set on the coffee table where Bucky is browsing her DVD collection for a movie.  
  
"You're serious."  
  
"I can't wait 'til we reach a point in our friendship when you realize I don't play when it comes to pizza."  
  
The aroma of the deliciously greasy pizza enters Bucky's nose the millisecond that she opens the boxes. Her pizza is plain but the slices are huge, further leading him to believe that there's no way a girl that small could intake all twelve slices.  
  
"Okay, looks like this is a bet," Bucky agrees. "What are the stakes we're raising here?"  
  
"When I eat this entire pizza, you will have to accompany me on my Darcy days every day until our friends come home," Darcy shrugs confidently and winks at him.  
  
"And when you don't?"  
  
"Oh, I will."  
  
"But when you don't, you'll have to do something with me." He didn't mean for it to, but that came out more suggestive than he'd intended, but he doesn't linger on it.  
  
"And that is?"  
  
"I don't know yet, but I'm hungry. Shake on it?" He extends his flesh hand outward to be shaken, but she instead takes the metal one covered in its leather glove, removes the garment, and gives it a respectable shake.  
  
"You've got a deal."  
  
Darcy and Bucky settled on watching _The Dark Knight_ to stay within the DC Comics theme of the day, but it was hard to focus and appreciate the film when during ninety percent of it, Bucky's breaking out in a sweat watching Darcy effortlessly eat slice after slice of pizza without even thinking about it. He can't even focus on his own pizza watching her on her tenth slice, amazed that someone this goddamn tiny could put away so much fucking food!  
  
"Are you _fucking serious_?" He exclaims when she finishes the last slice with ten minutes of the movie left, smiling like the cat got the canary.  
  
"Stop asking that."  
  
"I'm not upset about losing our bet, but I'm upset that you actually ate all that food and haven't combusted."  
  
"Super soldiers aren't the only ones with wicked metabolisms." She pats the chub of her stomach proudly and points to him. "I'm proud of myself even though I'm a pepperoni away from combusting."  
  
"I'll bet you are." This dame is too fucking cute for Bucky's own good. "So, I guess this means we'll have another Darcy day tomorrow."  
  
"You bet your ass it does."  
  
"What are the chances of you telling me what tomorrow entails?"  
  
"Slim to none."  
  
"Fair."  
  
Bucky is not entirely sure how the rest of the movie ended when he can't take his eyes off of Darcy long enough to remember it's even playing. This woman is so strange and perfect in every way that it pisses him off that he hadn't reached out to be friendly before now. Lord only knows how well they'd know each other if he'd came to her during the first missions Steve had went on following bringing Bucky home. Not doing so is in the past now, and his main focus is to make sure he gets every dose of Darcy he can until he just can't take her anymore.  
  
That'll probably _never_ happen.  
  
When Steve brought him back to New York from Wakanda, he always thought the modern day memories of sitting on a couch, laughing, cracking jokes, and having fun would be spent with Steve, even though Darcy is just as kind, funny, and pleasant to be around. As much as he'd like this to be with Steve, something about Darcy makes it okay that's it's not.  
  
Suddenly, tomorrow seemed so far away.  
  
  



End file.
